


My Big Break

by Glambini



Category: Adam Lambert - Fandom, Adommy - Fandom, Tommy Joe Ratliff - Fandom
Genre: Adommy, Glambini, M/M, My Big Break
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-01-27
Updated: 2010-05-30
Packaged: 2017-10-13 15:56:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/139041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glambini/pseuds/Glambini





	1. Chapter 1

_  
This is supposed to be your lucky break. Don't screw this up Tommy Joe!_

 __I could feel my heart pounding against its cage. With every musician that walked out the audition room, my turn drew closer. I knew some of these guys, local LA posse that played at the few rock gigs in town. Some of them were real good too. But even if I wasn't better, I was simply right and I hoped Adam will know it too. My whole life is about music, about the sort of music I know we can make together, and it boils down to whether he'll see a kindred spirit in me or not. Fuck! Maybe I should just walk outta here and never have to find out one way or the other; not landing this gig will fucking kill me. There will be other gigs, there always are, but I'm stuck on this one.

"Tommy Joe Ratliff", the lady with the clipboard yells out. Louder this time, "Tommy Joe Ratliff".

 _I freaking heard you the first time lady; wanna give me a moment to get my ass across the fucking room_. "That would be me." I plaster a huge smile on my face. Ladies always seemed to respond to that. Without fail, she was mirroring my smile, "you should'a said something." I simply shrug.  Unless I'm on stage, I don't really like being loud, and even then, only my bass is loud. Yelling across the room is not my thing. Most people can't fit me into a rock and roll stereotype easy, and that makes them uneasy, unsure of what or who they are dealing with, so I figure I'd try for the silent brooding type --- for now. 

"Through that door", she points to the door, as if I hadn't just seen about fifty people before me go there. _Tommy Joe cool it with the mental eye roll_. _Wrong vibes for the moment._ I chide myself. "You are going to be on the bass. It's all set up." I force a smile to my face. _Positive energy, I need positive energy._ I take a deep breath and walk through the door.

Instead of a grand entrance, everyone was chattering; Adam with his back turned to the door, didn't notice me walk in. I move my hair out of my eyes, not because I need to see, but to calm my nerves. I clear my throat to get their attention. Adam turns around and the air stops moving, in the room, in and out of my lungs. Every single pair of eyes in the room is fixed on me. I start to smile, but then I remember what I look like when I smile --- a cute shy teenager --- no, I'll go for nonchalant and indifferent. "My name is Tommy Joe Ratliff, I 'm on the bass." I walk over to the set up stage and reach for the bass guitar; wishing they'd let me bring mine for the audition. I preferred playing my own.

"The bass guitar, that all you play?" Adam asks in the warmest voice I'd ever heard.

"I...I...er..." _Fuck_ I am flustered, the way he's staring at me - such intensity. "I play the Keyboard and guitar too." I smile at myself - stuttering idiot that I'd become. "I just played the base at my last gig."

"Let's hear it," Adam said. His tone wasn't commanding but damned if it didn't sound like a command to me. Chuck the makeup and he could pass for my childhood piano teacher; I was very familiar with soft voices that were anything but soft.

I pull the guitar strap over my head, let its weight tug at my shoulder, look down so that my hair masks my face and wrap my fingers around the handle. Playing a guitar was like making love to myself; fingers dig into the notes, guitar pressing into my palm. I pluck the strings with my other hand, then glide my finger along the string, make the sound tremble. The guitar isn't coming alive like it's supposed to. "This sounds off," I say out loud as the thought comes to me. I start fixing the guitar, pulling her strings tight here, lose there; trying it out again, until everything sounds just right. "Can I start again?" I ask, still not looking up, completely fixated on the guitar. I don't wait for an answer either, simply start playing. _Yes, that's more like it._ The guitar is letting me take her places, her notes are loud and clear with just enough of a tremble. I bite down on my bottom lip and let my head fall back. I'm moving with the music now, in a world of my own, it's just me and the guitar and what we are doing to each other. My eyes are closed as I play the last note; I strum it out as long as I can. It's over, so I open my eyes to look for a reaction. Adam was gone.

"Okay everyone. That's a wrap for the day." One of the guys that had been talking to Adam when I'd walked into the room announces. _Fuck Tommy Joe, you blew it; shouldn't have adjusted the fraking guitar. It was probably fine, just as it was._

 __I walk out door the same way I walked in, with a lot less nerves and a lot more sadness. This was supposed to be it; my lucky break, my chance to play for a guy that had the voice of an angel and the devil all rolled into one. It didn't happen, didn't go down the way I'd wanted. What's new? Life is always playing a chess game with me and I'm always a step behind. My phone is vibrating against my thigh. I squeeze my fingers into the tight leather clinging to me and pull it out, trying to ignore the fact the I had worn the tight pants on purpose. I was straight, but I was ready to be as out there as Adam wanted to take his band. _Fuck! I have to let it go._ The screen is lit up with a smiling picture of Jessica, I answer. "Hey Girl!"

"How did the audition go?" She asks.

"You know auditions," I reply very non-committal, _I wasn't about to broadcast that I'd blown it. Not yet._

"I am sure you did great, you always play well."

"Sometimes it's about more than just the music." I note warily.

"You have personality and style too, love."

"I know," I chuckle but my insides are churning --- _if only Adam knew that about me_.

"You didn't smile, did you?"

"No." I state. "Maybe once." I correct myself.

"You know how that makes you look like a kid."

"I know." And Adam probably did too. _Shit!_

"So what now?" She asks.

"Wait for that elusive callback." I reply.

"It'll come."

"I hope so. I want this bad." I admit. Then I realize, I am still actually hoping for a callback. _Maybe it'll come._ I tell myself.

***

I glance at the mapquest print out on the dashboard, even though I already memorized the directions. Almost have to pinch myself to make sure I am not dreaming. I know this meeting doesn't mean it's a sure thing, but someone should send that message to my fluttering insides. This one time, I'll chuck the rock and roll persona and just be myself. If I get to play in his band, he'll have to like me as I am, smiling cutey and all.

Walking into the place, I see Adam alone at a table signaling for me to come over.

"Hi!" I hold out my hand as I walk up to him.

"Hello."

"Didn't see you when I was done playing. Wasn't sure if you'd heard enough to make the call."

"You're here aren't you?"

"I suppose." I was smiling, couldn't help it either. _Damn!_

"I'd been listening to everyone play that note with a screech all day, hoping someone would pull their head out of my ass long enough to notice it."

"So I..."

"You earned the call back as soon as you proved the instrument was your focus, not me."

"Maybe that's just because you weren't singing," I joke.

Adam's face lights up in a smile and I feel what falling under his spell is like, his eyes smile too as if they are reflecting his inner soul especially for you. _If he can affect me, like this,_ _No wonder women adore him, gay or not._ I echo his smile, against all better judgment. "Talent like yours is rare and I want to be there for the ride. I work hard and party hard, but mostly work hard."

"You have the right look, and you play well."

"The right look?" I chuckle, "never heard that before. It's always 'oh you don't look bad ass enough for rock and roll'."

Adam laughs too. "Oh, I've seen my fair share of glam-rock slamming too. I don't much like people that fit into neat little boxes."

"That's what I always say." I am giddy with excitement now; Adam is exactly what I'd imagined him to be.

"I assume you're fine with the whole gay scene. I'm gay, a nice slice of my fan base too, or so I'm told."

"Look, I grew up in LA, parting in West Hollywood. I'm good. You should see me rock the glam-rock makeup, totally in my element. " I assure Adam.

"Okay so it comes down to personality." Adam says.

"Well, that depends; what's your birth sign?" I ask.

"Sun or moon sign?" Adam asks, and I can feel it's a test.

"Moon...more accurate." I reply.

Adam smiles, and just like that, I feel us click like a buckle snapping into place. The entire day is surreal, like living a dream, only better. I meet the rest of the band, and it doesn't feel like a bunch of strangers thrown together. It feels like we'd all been living for this moment, destined to come together here and now.

Adam signals for us to gather round. "Only three weeks left until the AMAs where we go live. I don't need to tell you everything else needs to be on hold. All day practice everyday until then, even when I am not here. Let's do this."

I should have known when I felt my heart lurch at the sound of his voice that I was headed for an iceberg, and it'd be sink or swim. But, I didn't care. Or even worse, I wanted it.

This is the beginning.


	2. Chapter 2

His eyes are boring right into me as he sings;  
 _  
Yeah, I know we both know  
It isn’t time  
But could you be m-mine  
We’ll never get too far_

 __  
  
I try to concentrate on playing the guitar, not on how faint I feel; and that's not just because Adam is looking at me like he'd like to --- _Damn! I can't be thinking of that in these tight pants_ \--- but I seem to be forgetting to breathe too, I'm strung so tight. I pull the guitar close, in front of me, to mask the effect of Adam's singing on me.

Lady GaGa is on the other side of the screen, cheering us on. She seems to like where Adam's vocals are taking her song; not that we can hear her, but she's pumped her fist into the air enough times that I can tell. Everyone seems so oblivious, enjoying the moment, even Adam, and all I can do is try to re-route some of the blood flow, away from my hardening cock, to my brain. Adam finally looks away. Good! Now maybe I can get through this song without going off beat. I try to keep my head down, hair in my eyes; I don't need to be looking at Adam's ass. Fuck, I have never looked at another man's ass that way, not about to start. But, Adam's dancing, moving in that way that just draws my eyes to him. His hips are mocking me, taunting me with their sway, as if they know just how hard I am fighting to find the strength to look away.

Even here, at the studio, with almost no audience, Adam is performing. Here, it doesn't matter if he's still; he doesn't have to interpret the song; he doesn't have to do anything but sing into the microphone; yet, he dances. He is not looking back at me anymore; he is watching my reflection on the sound-proof glass in front of him. I look up and we are starring into each others' eyes in the glass; he is singing the last strophe: _Now I wanna get you alone. Ohh Give you a fever – fever, yeah. Ohh Fever, fever, yeah._ My lips go dry, and I run my tongue over them, slowly, biting down on my lip to stop the tremble of the last note on the guitar from consuming me completely. My eyes never leave the faint reflection of Adam on the glass. He ends the last note short; shorter than I have heard him sing it before. He shifts uncomfortably from one leg to the other, and I smile: perhaps he isn't a god immune to mere mortals after all.

"Let’s take five." Adam says, reaching for the water bottle on the counter.

Monte and Lisa are already chatting away. The producer's voice is relayed over the intercom, "good job guys, we'll just need another take on that last note." I can see Adam nod in response. I should have gone over to the others, but I wasn't sure my feet would function right; and I definitely couldn't talk right now without sounding all husky and aroused. So I just stand there willing my hardness soft, when Adam walks up to me, leans into my space --- far into my space --- and whispers into my ear, "So did I?".

"Did you what?" I croak, flustered by the caress of his breathe on the nape of my neck.  
   
He leans into me, so that we are touching - not in any way we haven't been touching all week, but somehow this is different and I know it; worse, my cock knows it too. He runs a finger between the leather straps and mental chains on my shirt; and through the thin fabric over my skin, I can feel the heat of his fingers, the cold of the metal chain and rough edge of the leather - all in the same time. "Give you a fever...," he whispers, letting the words hang in the air, daring me to respond to the lust filled web he'd caught me in. It should be illegal to have that kind of sex appeal, make stuttering idiots out of everyone with a pulse. I don't know where I found strength, but no way would I be another of Adam's pretty boy toys. I am twenty eight, not twenty, not like the kids he is used to; and damned if I wasn't going to make sure he knew it. "Adam, I'm not gay." I try to laugh. It sounds fake to me; but not to Adam, judging by the speed with which he steps away. I am both surprised and relieved; even though my heart is still pounding, at least I haven't made a complete fool of myself. My hardness pressed against the guitar is throbbing though, letting me know that _it_ definitely has Adam fever.

Two hours later and I'm thinking we'll never get a wrap on this song. Adam isn't quite hitting that note at the end, and everyone, most of all Adam, is very frustrated.

"Sorry guys, I am just not feeling it." Adam says obviously really remorseful. Even Lady GaGa thinks we should just call it a day - what we have is good enough. But Adam's having none of that; he knows he can hit higher notes with more heart, and emotion than he has so far. That's what I love about Adam, he won't settle for good enough, or for better than everyone else, he always goes for his personal best.

I walk up to him. "Adam, maybe you should try being more theatrical. Let yourself feel the song, you know. Act it out. I'll even stand in for a prop if it'll help." The words are out of my mouth before I can consider them, and even Adam stares at me, dumbfounded. "Let's rock and roll, babyboy." I give his large broad shoulders a shove, "come on, give me a fever, it's my birthday."

I stand facing Adam, I meant it about being the prop --- everyone thinks it's just theater anyway --- no pain, no gain; and Adam takes it out of this world.

"That was perfect Adam. It's a wrap." I hear the producer over the intercom. I can't concentrate though; I am still staring at Adam. He's heaving because, he just let out all the air in his lungs hitting that note; I'm heaving because, well because, I couldn't breathe while I watched him do it - for me.

"So we are heading to Dave's for my birthday bash, you coming?" I ask Adam.

He looks at me, like he is considering it. "No, watching straight boys make out with their girlfriends is not really my scene." His voice is flat, lacking its usual energy.

"What's your fucking problem?" I ask, mad at him and at myself - for wanting him to come so badly.

"You are."

I look around, wondering if anyone is paying attention. They are doing a good job leaving us alone to battle this out. "How is that?"

"You know what? It's my problem, don't worry about it. I'll try to swing by Dave's later. Happy birthday." Adam pulls me into a side hug, and I have the distinct feeling that sweeping this - whatever this is - under the carpet wasn't going to make it go away. But I can't protest, can't make any sense of this myself. I simply need to get away, so I leave calling out to remind the crew about meeting up at Dave's.

**

I am not really having a swell time, but it's nothing some alcohol and drugs can't change. By the time Adam arrives I am high and wasted, and very happy to see him. "Hey baby boy!" I snake an arm around him, pulling him close. "Does the birthday boy get a kiss?"

"Of course," Adam plants a quick peck on me. He might have been going for my cheeks, but I turn so it lands full on my lips. No one is fazed of course, this is LA, and this is the rock and roll crowd in LA. A peck on the lips was not outrageous in the least. "Happy birthday." Adam says, just as I notice the awkward looking man by his side. It was as if he'd stepped right out of the eighties, right down to the greasy, dirty hair stuck to his head. "My boyfriend - Drake." Adam introduces him.

"Hello Drake, glad Adam brought you along. Have a good time; there is enough booze and buzz to go round. Maybe not enough Adam, but now that he's famous you'll get used to sharing, won't you?" I don't know what came over me. It was unusual for me to get confrontational, maybe it was the alcohol, but Drake being here, with Adam, at _my_ birthday bash - simply touched a raw nerve. Jessica comes up behind me; I need an intervention, she can tell. "Hi! Adam I'm Jessica." She holds out her hand to Adam, wrapping her other arm around me to keep me from wobbling. "Yes Adam. This is Jessica, my _fucking_ girlfriend." I turn Jessica and grab her head, planting a sloppy kiss on her.

Adam is still holding Jessica's hand, and he is staring at me with a lot of hurt in his eyes. "Hello Jessica." He says. _Good. I hope he is hurting as much as I am inside_ \--- is all I can remember going through my drug sodden brain before the rest of the band descend all around us, and we are parted in the crowd. There is not much I can do but sit in a corner and sulk, and watch everyone swoon over Adam. _Damn him!_

"What's going on?" Jessica sneaks up behind me; she follows my line of sight to Adam but doesn't say another word. She doesn't have to.

"I am twenty eight years old, Jessica."

"I know..." Jessica's voice is soothing.

"An adult: not a child, not a boy toy."

"I know..."

"So why is he playing with me? What's his game?" I ask.

"Game you're playing too." Jessica points out. I am about to deny it; shake my head. _It's all him, isn't it?_ "Since when, am I your girlfriend?" Jessica asks.

"Oh that." I try to laugh, slap back the guilt. I didn't mean to use her like that, she was my friend. "I'm sorry about that." I say, and mean it. "It's just that there he was, and I was so glad to see him, and he's with this Drake dude, and I couldn't just be, you know, alone."

"Oh baby." Jessica pulls me into a hug. "You got it bad, don't you?"

"Pathetic, aren't I?" It's a good thing I skipped adding on more eyeliner tonight, my entire face would be smudged.

"No, I just never knew you play with boys."

"Nick?" I ask. It wasn't as if my few trysts had been hidden away.

"I thought that was just playful banter."

"Well, it was just playing around, nothing more."

"And this?" She nods towards Adam.

"I don't know Jess." I admit. "I really don't know."

"Well it's your birthday, forget about Adam tonight and try to have some fun. It's your party."

"You know, it is my birthday and I can do whatever I fucking want." I voice my epiphany and attempt to stand. I wobble a little but finally my legs stop shaking. "Thanks Jessica, you're the best."

I make my way across the room, catching Adam's eye halfway there. I tilt my head, letting my hair fall away from my face. I can feel the chains on my top rattling with every step I take, his gaze pulling me to him and I smile. _Mine!_

"Dance with me." It's not a request he can refuse; it is after all, my party. The music is just loud enough that it drowns the conversations around us, and we can pretend to be the only two people in the room. I turn around and lean against his chest. I'm grinding my hips into him, dancing like I never would sober.  His hardness is rubbing against me and I relish knowing that I did that to him; me, not Drake.

"Can you feel me, Tommy?" Adam thrusts against me back in rhythm to the music. "How hard I am for you?" He whispers into my ears, stopping to nibble at my lobe. I nod. "Do you enjoy tormenting me?"

 _What? No. It's you who torments me._ But I don't say that; I nod --- somewhere deep inside the reptilian part of my currently non-functioning brain, I know that I push his buttons, just as badly as he pushes mine.

We are still dancing, but he is mostly pushing me off the dance floor. I move along, his frame too large for me to resist. He turns me around and pins me to the wall, crushing our cocks together through the tight leather pants. His hands are all over me, and every thrust against my leather clad cock is driving me higher than my drug induced haze.

"I want you, Tommy." His voice is husky and warm against my neck. "I want you so bad, I could just drag you up to a room and fuck your brains out, right now."

I moan and whimper against him, a whole lot of me wanting just that too.

"And you'd let me, wouldn't you?"

I nod. _Of course I would._

He was so close, if I just moved an inch our lips would touch. I part my lips, inviting, begging to be kissed. He moves even closer, so close he is breathing into my mouth. "I'd make you scream with pleasure." He brushes his nose against mine. _Yes. Yes! YES!!_ My cock was screaming already, short circuiting my brain. I can't take the talking any more so I reach my hands around his neck, meaning to pull him in for a kiss, but Adam's not finished yet. He grabs both my hands and lifts them above my head, trapping the rest of me with the weight of his body. "Do you want me to kiss you?" He asks. Surely, he doesn't mean for me to answer. I stare at him, defiant; he might be big enough to manhandle me, but I will not beg him to kiss me. He licks along the nape of my neck, right above the collar bone, and I squirm against him; my cock thrusting wantonly against his. "Adam." I can't help but call out his name.

"That's it baby; I like the sound of my name from your lips." Adam's voice trembles and he bites down on me.

Pain, pleasure, was there any difference? As long as it was Adam doing it, all I felt was horny.

Adam raised his head and stare at me, eyes dark with hunger. "Look at yourself now, Tommy; wanton, lusting after me. I could fuck right here and you wouldn't say no."

"Then what are you waiting for?" I hate that my voice was so needy, desperate, but I wanted him - and it had to be now, high and drunk, or never.

"I don't take, what you won't give sober. And I definitely don't fuck straight men." Adam released his grip on my hands, and pulled away. "Happy Birthday, Tommy. I suppose I should be flattered that, at least wasted, you'd want me, but I don't do morning afters of that sort very well."

I was high enough on drugs, and booze, and Adam, that his words make me smile. "See ya later, Glambert." I yell after him. To any onlooker, and there were many, it was nothing more than a little dirty dancing and fooling around. We didn't even kiss, just some pump and grind, but inside, deep where not even the drugs and booze could reach, I was breaking and it wasn't pretty.


	3. Chapter 3

Adam has been avoiding me all week; And no, not in the sense that I don't see much of him, because obviously the band is practicing everyday together. Yes, It's official --- **_the_** band --- and I have a contract to prove it, too; signed two days after my birthday - a present of sorts, from the universe, I suppose. Anyway, you can imagine my surprise when Adam walks up behind me. "So, I am going out for dinner with Ferras, Markus and some other friends, do you want to come?"

Heat rolls of Adam in waves and I am caught up in it, for a moment, unable to find my voice. "Why? So that you can ignore me, like you have all week?"

"No." I can tell he is taken aback, probably expecting my to jump when he says, try to please him like everyone does. I arch my brows and cock my head to the side in question; I am hoping he doesn't plan to deny dishing out the cold treatment. He didn't. "Look, let’s start over. You are cute, attractive, and straight - flirting with a guy like you can be lethal for a gay boy like me, I needed to get myself under control."

"And are you?" I ask.

"Am I, what?"

"Under control."

"I think so." Adam looks pensive. "Yes." He says, with more conviction this time. "I am."

"I suppose I should apologize for what happened at my party."

"Don't. You were wasted." Adam smiles, "and besides, I did enjoy our dance."

I can feel the color creeping up on my cheeks. Whatever I brought this up for, I don't know.

"So will you?"

"Hmm?" I am still distracted by the memory of that dance.

"Will you have dinner, with me and my friends?" Adam asks.

"Am I, a friend?" I reply with a question.

"Yes." Adam claims, and my eyes are wide with disbelief. "Okay, maybe not yet, but I'd like you to be." He adds.

I smile, "I don't think I can do dinner just yet. You are not the only one that was out of control, you know."

"Oh..."

"Is that all you can say? Oh..." I ask, surprised by the harsh edge of my voice. I don't want to be just another friend. I don't know where this is coming from, but I am almost mad that he is trying to get over me --- label me off limits.

"I thought you were immune to my charm," Adam states.

"Maybe I am, you are the one that hates labels. Why are you so quick to place me into a neat little box?"

Adam closes the distance between us. He is pressing up against me, whispering into my ear, “Because it's my way to keep sane. You have no idea how enticing you are; how distracting it can be." Adam grinds against me, "how difficult it is to be hard for you all the time, wanting those lips of yours around me. That's how I want you; glittered up, on your knees and your hair sweeping up after your lips."

"I...I..." My throat is dry and I can't speak, not that I'd know what to say. What does one say to that? My cheeks look made up with color, fit for a full page cover-girl ad. My mind was screaming no, and my cock was getting hard. I shift so he doesn't feel the effects his words have on me. I'd never thought of taking a guy into my mouth before. The few times I'd been with a guy, I was the aggressor - the one getting my cock sucked, not the other way around. Yet, with Adam I didn't find the prospect as disgusting as I'd expected, instead I was downright aroused. _Fuck!_

Adam must have caught the panicked look on my face, even if he misunderstood the reason behind it, because he stepped away and said, "That’s why you better fit into that box and under that label, Tommy. It's the only thing keeping me from making that fantasy a reality."

I swallow hard, and nod - staring at the ground, wishing it could swallow me whole.

"And Tommy." Adam calls out. I look up. "I always get what I want, when I put my mind to it. Don't push the envelope, unless you're sure it'll be all the way."

I watch him walk away, my heart still racing, my face flushed, hands sweaty. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Drake walk into the studio, walk up to Adam and kiss him. In that split second I realize that I am sure, I just won't share. I pull out my phone and dial the one person that can rescue me.

"Hello."

"Hi Danielle. It's Tommy."

"Hi Tommy, what's up?"

"I need your help."

**

I take in my new look in the mirror. Danielle did a great up with the make up, and the outfit was pitch perfect. There was no better way to say 'no label' than this. Adam would simply have to figure out what to do about it. I flip my hair aside with my hand, taking in the blue hue of glittery eye shadow atop the dark liner. Danielle said it would make my eyes pop, and she was right. Simple black liner I'd done before, but this was something different - down to the half shirt that left my abs feeling naked, with a print that says "glitter and glam".

"So what do you think?" Danielle asks.

"It might be much." I hesitate. "I can't do this. It feels so exposed, naked."

"That's what the leather jacket is for." She is holding out the black jacket on her finger, and I reach for it. How do I tell her that it's not exposing my body I am worried about, but exposing my heart. I put on the Jacket, and take another look in the mirror. I smile. "You're right."

"I am always right. Adam will flip when he sees you like this."

"Or he'll think it's a pathetic ploy for his attention." Worry creeps into my voice.

"Would that be untrue?"

"No." I admit. "It's just that I don't want to seem too eager, or desperate."

"Oh believe me, he won't be doing much thinking." Danielle is laughing, and suddenly I find that I am too. "You are evil." I tease her.

"I think we make a good team." She's nodding, laughing.

"You really don't like Drake, do you?"

"He's a sleazebag that doesn't deserve Adam."

"And I do?"

"Look, I think you'd be better to Adam. He's been crushing on you since he met you. Just don't do him wrong." She says, rather seriously.

"I..." I sigh. "I won't."

Danielle pulls me into an embrace, "Go get him."

**

I know where Adam is having Dinner tonight, so I drive there from Danielle's. Sure enough, there he was, sitting at the table with Feras and co. I walk by, just near enough that I'll catch his eye.

"Tommy?" I hear Adam call out, not quite sure if he's seen a ghost or not.

I don't turn, I pirouette and head for their table. "Hi Adam! Didn't know you'd be here." I take his outstretched hand, then bend to kiss him on his cheeks, close enough that he can smell the raspberry flavor of my lip-gloss. "Oh look, I got some glitter on you." I lean over to wipe his cheek, stroking my finger against him suggestively.

"Wh-at a-re y-ou do-ing h-ere?" He was stammering. _Good!_

"Just came by to pick up dinner for the house. We're partying over at Dave's tonight."

"What kinda party? Why are you dressed like that?"

I smile and turn around, showing off my outfit. "Do you like it? Wanted to go for the glitter-look tonight."

"Yeah. I like glitter, Baby?"

"You call everyone baby!" I pout.

"Yes, I do. Not baby for you then."

I shake my head, "No baby for me, Babyboy."

"Glitter-baby." Adam is teasing now.

"Hmmm. Better."

"So am I invited for the party?" His voice is dripping with sex.

"Do you want to be?" I feel the need to tease back.

"If you are going to be dressed like that; yes."

"If you are going to come alone: yes."

I don't give Adam time to answer. "See ya later boys." I wave to everyone at the table and walk away. It dawned on me, as I walked to the pickup counter, that it was not a very good first impression to make on his friends. I put the thought out of my mind; there would be time enough to fix that, if this - whatever this was - worked out right. It takes about two minutes for the food to come, but it feels like an eternity. I can't help but steal a few glances at Adam, and I always catch him staring right at me. It's making me feel very self-conscious, and very sexy too. When I finally have all the bags of food in hand, I don't walk out of the restaurant; I strut.

I pause for a second by the door; my eyes seek out Adam. He is looking right at me, and waves me good bye. I smile. Then suddenly I am winking at him and walking out the door, adrenaline still pumping through my veins.


	4. Chapter 4

  
  
The clock above the entrance has the hour hand pointing at nine when Adam arrives. At this point, I am already a bunch of jittery nerves. _What took him so long? Not simply dinner, surely_. I stand beside Dave as Adam walks through the door. "Tommy invited me over for a wild time," he says to a surprised Dave. "Hi Babyboy." I hold out my hand, hoping he doesn't notice the tremor. In true form, Adam grabs my hand and pulls me in for a hug. "You've really gone glam, haven't you."

"What can I say? You are rubbing off on me." I joke.

Dave wraps an arm around me laughing, "Adam, who is this and what have you done with Tommy Joe?"

Adam is smiling, but he isn't looking at Dave, he is staring right into my eyes, "Just sprinkled on a bit of glitter, that's all."

"Well come on in," Dave ushers us away from the doorway.

I lead Adam into the living room, very aware of how close behind me he is walking. "What would you like to drink?" I ask without turning, not wanting to risk brushing against him.

"You." Adam whispers against my ear.

 _Why am I standing still instead of walking along? Did he bump into me, or did I stop in his tracks?_ I swallow hard, "Sorry, we don't have that on the menu."

"Not even on the maybe-especially-for-Adam menu?"

I am glad he can't see me blushing. I chuckle, trying to mask my body's response with laughter. "Maybe later..." I force my legs to move, one in front of the other and cover the few paltry steps to the corner bar. _Did I just offer myself to Adam for later? I need to have my head examined by a professional._

Dave is walking not far behind us. "Everyone's out back," he says, mostly to Adam, before directing his gaze to me. "Fix him a drink and join us." And sensing the tension between us adds, "Or not..."

"Or not." "We'll be there." Adam and I talk over ourselves. Dave seems fascinated by the proceedings. "You two have it bad, don't you?" My "NO" is as forceful as Adam's "Maybe". "Well, I'll leave you to it." Dave is laughing as he heads outside.

"What are you having?" Adam asks, as if the conversation with Dave was a natural state for things. I have an angry glare to my gaze; this was all his fault. His fault I was losing my mind with wanting him, enough to be broadcasting it to my very straight roommate. _Fuck!_ "I'll have a Jack on the Rocks; need something stiff right now."

Adam turns me around and pulls me against him; I can feel him through my leather pants. "For you, I can do stiff anytime."

I hate that I am blushing. I hate that his mere words, suggestive as they may be, have my insides skating into a triple-lutz. I occupy my hands; reach for the ice bucket and tong. I drop three cubes into two glasses and hold them out for Adam who has the bottle of Jack Daniels in hand. I catch a whiff of the alcohol, right before the tan liquid hits my lips, and suddenly I feel more relaxed. Yes, I could probably use the contents of the ice bucket in my pants right now, but Adam was here, I had his attention, and that, had been the point of the entire day.

"See you outside," I say as I walk to the sliding doors. Maybe being in public would keep me from completely losing all sense of dignity and begging Adam to fuck me against the bar. I want his attention, not for him to think me a wanton minx.

"Are you afraid of what I'll do to you if we are alone?" Adam asks; his brows arched, his lips curled up in a sly smile. I hate that he can read me so well. "Perhaps I am worried of what I'd have to do to you to shut you up," I say, far more flippantly than I feel.

There was no time for Adam to react with anything more than blatant surprise; we walked into the yard and the crowd circle us - circle Adam - like ants circle around candy. Everyone wanted a piece of him, and suddenly I was almost invisible; which I, of course, don't mind; not being one for the spotlight anyway. What I did mind was the ease with which Adam mingled, the attentive manner in which he listened to everyone, and the thoughtful was he responded to their prodding; What I did mind was the obscene way the girls flirted with him, and a few of the boys too; what I did mind was the way Adam seemed to flirt back. For the first time that day I entertain the Idea that Adam's attention, suggestive and sexual as it may be, is not something I can lay exclusive claim to. Having mistaken Adam being Adam for something more; I walk to a dark corner to pout and lick my wounds in private, with a pint of Jack on the Rocks to ease the pain.

**

"Hiding?"

His voice startles me but I don't have to turn to know who it is. I shake my head, "didn't want to be another shadow in the limelight."

"I am sorry, it's overwhelming sometimes and I forget you haven't yet had the time to adjust to the frenzy." Adam stands behind me, his hands resting on my shoulder. "Didn't mean to get caught up in all that, but these are your friends so I hardly thought you'd up and run for cover from them. Whatever will you do with the fans that will soon start hounding you?"

"I don't think I am hounding material." I snort.

"For a musician, you are not very self-aware."

"And of course, you are."

"I meant that as a compliment. What is your problem tonight?" Adam's anger is sparked.

"You are my problem!" My voice is loud, much too loud. My eyes skim the crowd to see if I drew any attention and I stand; Adam had a height advantage over me anyway, no need to add to it by remaining seated.

"Is that so?"

"Yes." My voice is lower in amplitude this time, but still laden with all the jealous venom I have been stocking up all night.

"And how is that?" Adam is no less stern.

"You just walk around and expect every red-blooded creature around to fall at your feet. You talk the talk so well; I could almost forget you had a man to go home to tonight.  Labels: straight, gay; mean nothing to you. Do you care who gets hurt when their dreams hit the wall of reality?" I am fuming, a fact not lost on Adam.

"Look straight-boy. If you want me to back off, just say so." Adam holds his hands up in surrender.

"You don't fucking get it, do you?" I ask, exasperated.

"No, Tommy. I don't. You've been sending me such conflicting signals; the wires must have gotten crossed in my brain."

"Your brain? More like your dick." I don't know what madness has me in its grip. I am never like this, and here I am, clawing at his face like a cat too scared to be held.

"Wow." Adam looks like he is out of words.

"I'm sorry. Don't know what has gotten into Me."

"You know what? I'm sorry. You are straight. I should have respected that more, no matter how your pretty glittered face stirs my blood. It won't happen again."

"This," I point my hand to and fro between us, "has nothing to do with being straight."

"It doesn't?" Now Adam looks confused.

"No. Look I am in your band - I hope I still am - and it's cool that you kid around like you do with everyone. It's a huge part of your sex appeal. Just don't confuse the act with reality." I am out of breath by the last word.

"You think it's an act?" Adam asks.

"With me it is..." There, I have given us both an out; now I can pretend it's all about stage play and he won't have to deal with a fool smitten with him.

"I see." Adam sounds solemn, sad almost.

"Except now Dave thinks your teasing is for real and I'll never hear the end of it." I lament.

"And that's why you are upset." Adam concludes. I could have set him right, told him the truth, that I was upset because I want this act to be for real, not the other way around. I could have simply grabbed his collar and pulled him down for a kiss. I didn't. Gripped by the sort of fear that overcomes men when they feel vulnerable, I simply nod.

"Very well. I'll limit the glam-sexiness to the stage." Adam accents his words with a smile.

Again, afraid to speak, just in case the words out my mouth end up _please don't_ ; I simply nod and smile, like everything has been settled.

Adam's phone, usually ignored when it simply vibrates, is set to chime upon calls from his close knit circle of friends and family. It was ringing now. "I have to take this." Adam says, never one to be rude. "Sure. Go ahead." My okay in hand, he hits the green button and holds the phone to his ear. I slump back onto the tree stump that passed for a garden chair, trying to shake this eerie feeling that I had just blown any chance I ever had with Adam.

Adam is sliding his phone back into his pocket and mumbling something that I can't make out. "huh?" I squint at him. "That was Drake. Have to go." He smiles. _And that, ladies and gents, is how heartbreak is dished out; with a smile._ His words set off a coiled spring inside me. "Why?"

"Because he is my boyfriend..." Adam shakes his head at me, arms held out in mock question.

"Do you love him?" I ask before I think. "I'm sorry; it's none of my business."

"Yes. It's none of your business."

Silence envelopes us, cocooning us from the outside world. After a few moments, Adam breaks the spell. "I haven't thought about it for a while."

"Thought about what?" I ask.

"Whether I love him or not." Adam replies.

"Do you?" My curiosity gets the better of me.

"I am not sure. I did once; before all this craziness overtook my life." Adam looks lost in thought.

"And now?"

"I don't know." Adam sighs.

"If I loved someone, I'd know." I declare.

"My life has just been moving at such a fast pace for most of this year that I've not slowed down enough to notice anything."

"Well you should." I say, very certain of myself.

"Should what?" Adam asks.

"Slow down and figure things out."

"Why bother?"

"Because, no one worth loving will come knocking if you are another man's man. And if you don't love Drake, that's a kind of tragedy."

"I didn't know you were such a romantic." Adam teases.

"Well, me and Jack Daniel here." I lift my glass.

"So you are going to hide behind a drink then." Adam chuckles.

"Instead of cop to being a starry eyed romantic - Hell Yeah!"

We are both laughing as if we'd been friends since grade school, not men who'd just been sparring with words earlier.

"I have got to go; the boyfriend and a warm bed beckon." Adam's words slice through my heart. I nod and hold out my hand. He takes my hand and continues, "Had a great time; thanks for inviting me. Sorry about the misunderstanding with Dave."

"No worries. Anytime." I walk behind him as he heads into the house.

Dave is at the bar, mixing some drinks. Adam walks over; I follow a few steps behind.

"Leaving already?" Dave asks, walking around to meet us halfway.

"Yeah; the boyfriend awaits." Adam replies.

"Aha." Dave smirks. "So what do you say about our Glitter baby here?" Dave pulls me to his side.

"It's a perfect look on him. If he batted for my team, I'd be all over him." Adam admits.

"Dude, you _are_ all over him." Dave points out; much to my horror.

Adam is ready with the comeback. "Well, unfortunately he doesn't bat for my team." He looks at me, eyes apologetic, and I realize he is trying to make things right with me. He is willing to let Dave think my glam-rock persona got him hot for a straight guy to do it. That had to mean something, didn't it? At the very least, he cares; even if he cares about my reputation, not me; even if he is heading home to fuck someone else; even if he already has a boyfriend. _Riiight?_

"I'll walk you out." I find myself, leading Adam away from Dave. There are things Dave knows about me, things he could say that would bring my tentative truce with Adam crashing down.

I stand watching Adam walk to his car. I can't follow because it's a pap frenzy out there and a picture of him walking out of a random house in Hollywood isn't worth their bother, but add a man, or a woman, to the mix and it'd get ugly.

Dave walks up behind me, "he doesn't know, does he?"

"Know what?" I feign innocence.

"Don't be coy with me Tommy Joe." Dave is not amused.

"No he doesn't. And besides, he has a boyfriend." I explain.

"And you don't want to set yourself up for the hurt." Dave finishes for me.

"Something like that." I admit.

"He seems very into you." Dave says.

"He is that way with everyone." Sadness creeps into my voice against my will.

"Oh! Tommy." Dave pulls me against him and I welcome the comfort hug. He can sense that it's a bit too late for pain prevention, I am already hurting. "What happens when Adam finds out you aren't all that straight?" Dave asks.

"He is the one using labels, not me." I reply. "Something he never does, by the way."

"Did you ever consider that he has a heart to protect too?" Dave prods.

"If he was interested - really into me - he'd have figured out that I bat for his team on occasion. God knows his toying with me gave rise to ample evidence to that effect." Bitterness laces my words.

"Look, sometimes it's a struggle to see what's in front of your nose." Dave says. My silence makes it clear I won't budge. "For you and him both!" Dave exclaims with an exasperated sigh.

 _You're wrong Dave. I can see what's in front of my nose very clearly._

**

Monte, Lisa and I are standing around, waiting for Longineu to show for rehearsals. Adam too, is expected to show up any minute now.

"Apparently Drake and Adam are no longer an item." Lisa announces.

"And we are filling in for the gossip pages today because...?" Monte rarely took kindly to such talk. I try not to show that her news has me positively giddy. _Dammit, at least I get to dream that he and I are a possibility for a bit.  
_  
"Well, I didn't want the band to be blind-sighted by questions about it." Lisa says.

"It's probably not true." I add my two cents.

'Oh, it is; Ferras and Brad are talking about it. Adam seems to be smitten with some straight guy he can't have; and they are convinced spaghetti is only straight until it hits hot water."Lisa says.

"Adam is the hot water?" Monte tries to decipher the metaphor.

"Exactly!" Lisa is nodding, seeming happy to be in the know.

"And who's the spaghetti." I ask. _Surely it can't be me, right?_

"That; I don't know." Lisa shrugs.

Longineu walks in, aborting our conversation. "Where have you been?" Monte asks him. "Traffic. A little rain and no one in LA can drive a car. Got stuck behind a three car pileup on the 405." He replies.

"I avoid the 405 on good days; in the rain, forget it." I comment.

"Are we ready to rock ‘for your entertainment’?" Adam yells as he walks into rehearsal. The air is charged with excitement around him. It electrifies us too. We work on the songs all day; and I daresay, it's sounding as close to perfection as I have ever heard us play.

All done for the day, we are putting away instruments. I walk up to Adam. "So is it true?"

"Is what true?" He asks back.

"You and Drake are no longer an item."

"News travels fast in Hollywood, doesn't it?" He asks.

"I suppose." I say, disappointment that he won't confirm it gnawing at me. _Lisa and her rumor peddling. I should have known it wasn't true._

A silent moment passes between us, like he is weighing what to tell me, how much to tell me, and how to tell me. When he finally speaks, his words put the wind behind the sails of my heart. "It's true. I ended it."

"Why?" It popped out of my mouth before my brain could think.

"Someone made me realize I didn't love him anymore. He deserves better. And I can't find what I want if I am not looking, right?" The way he said 'someone' made me think it might be me. _Don't get your hopes Tommy; just because you talked about it does not mean he left Drake for you. Besides, he wouldn't have to look for you; you are right here.  
_  
"Good luck finding whatever it is you are looking for, Adam." I say before walking away. Of course, I am not merely walking away; I am running away --- running before he sees my pain at finding, and never being able to have, what I want...


	5. Chapter 5

Adam and I ease into a friendly back and forth over the course of the week. True to his word, he dials down the innuendo and mind games, so much so, that I am now looking forward to being on stage with him again. Meantime, I enjoy his quirky humor and pure energy - he'd be perfect for a red bull commercial. He is, unlike me, rather book-smart too, yet not in that snobbish way people can be. I hold my own when we talk music though; I have a head full of rock trivia to jostle with. 

"We are going to grab a drink at Lisa's after rehearsal, you coming?" I ask Adam.   
He is looking at me, eyes boring right into me; then he leaps back, like he'd burn if he stays close a second longer. It's moments like this that leave me confused, not sure what to make of our new friendship. When he finally replies, I feel like shit for having asked him at all.

"No. I have a date." He says with a smirk. Probably because all blood drains from my already pale face, he hastens to add, "it's just a custome party with Ferras."

I walk away to save face; no way I was going to let him see it hurt me that he'd already started dating, while I was relegated to 'just friends' status. Out of the corner of my eyes, I see him mumble something, obviously as confused as I was about what was happening between us.  _Ferras!?!_ I think to myself, shocked. _Sure, he and Adam have been spending a lot of time in the studio together, working on the album; naive me thought them nothing more than friends. You're a fool Tommy Joe. A big Fool!_  


  
I pass Danielle on my way out. "Hi Tommy."  
"Hello." I don't feign cheery very well, and no doubt she can tell because she hugs me close. It's one of those---I can tell you're having a bad day and need some love---hugs.  
"Where are you off to?" She aks.

 _Away from Adam, Away from here for now_. "No where in particular." I say nonchalantly.     
"Come help me do Adam's makeup for the costume party tonight." She cocks her head to the side.   
"No." I say even before she finishes talking. I need to put either Pasadena or Long beach between me and Adam; otherwise, I'll make an even bigger fool of myself over him.   
"Why?" She asks, oblivious to the battle raging within me.  _Fuck!!! How can she ask that? I mean, she helped me get dressed to catch Adam's eye. Did she think that was just a guitar player trying to impress the boss? Now, he's single and dating, and it's some other guy that caught his fancy._

 _  
_"He has a date." I say simply.  
"Who?" She looks stunned. Ferras?" she asks like that doesn't make sense, but I can't stand around to hash this out. Adam will be here any minute, and I was a few moments from losing it.   
"I've got to go. I'll see you later." I kiss her on the cheek and make my exit. Just in time too; as I turn to shut the door of the lobby behind me, I see Adam emerge from the rehearsal room.

**

I sit myself on the sandy bench by the beach; it's just me, my thoughts and the waves crashing against the shore.  _Get a grip on yourself, Tommy Joe. What now? Want to be his boyfriend? NOOoo. Okay, so I just don't like the idea of him with another man. He's had other men before, he'll have more later. Okay. Okay. Maybe it's not about who he's with, it's about me wanting him, Period. Physically trembling with need for him.  I need to get laid. Yeah. That's it. Get fucking laid and cool them churning balls down a notch._

I glance at my phone. Five missed calls. I unlock the screen, scroll to the missed calls. It's my girlfriend. I return her call.  
"Hey TJ." She sounds perky, not mad on account of me totally blowing her off for the last two weeks. I'm pleasantly surprised.   
"Hi! I'm so sorry." I know I am in the wrong, even though she's letting me off easy - _this_ time.  
"How's my big time guitarist doing?" She asks.  
"The band's great. We've been busy learning the songs. Hitting the road soon. I've had no time to myself." I say.  
"Or me either." She laments. I knew her frustration would materialize at some point.  
"Or you either. Sorry." I apologize again.  
"Well, that's what it takes to make it. Hollywood is very cut throat. I am happy for you." She says. I feel like crap because she's being supportive, and I have barely given her existence any thought with all my lusting after Adam lately. As if she heard the word Adam in my thoughts, "so what's Adam like?", she asks.   
"I don't know. What do you mean - how is he like?" I ask. I really didn't want to be talking about Adam right now.   
"Is he hot?" She asks.  
"I don..." I start, but then the memory of him caressing my ear with his whisper, and the heat of his body pressed up against mine, assaults my senses. "Yeah. He's hot."  
"You know how sometimes people have this stage presence, that's not really there otherwise, I wondered if he was for real or like that." She says.  
"Oh, he's for real." I laugh into the phone.  _So very for real._

 _  
_  
 _"If he's oozing that kind of sex appeal all the time, I don't know how Lisa can play without getting distracted." She comments._    
I laugh in response. Not that it was very funny. I'd missed a couple of beats when Adam was in the room, looking at me a certain way. Good thing Monte's heard me play the songs perfectly other times, or he might have started a Tommy-is-not-up-for-this-campaign.   
"So would you do him?" She asks.   
I choke, cough and splutter. "What in the hell kinda question is that?"   
She's laughing, "Just checking."  
"Besides, he's dating again." I say without thinking. "Who?" she asks.  
I probably shouldn't say, but she's harmless enough. "Ferras."   
"Oh..."  
"Yeah, they've been working on the album together and stuff."  
"And stuff..." her voice has a knowing smirk to it.   
"Anyway, I'll see you later okay." I say.  
"Well unless you want to conduct our entire relationship via twitter, you'd better." She scolds me.  
"Bye!"  
I stare at my phone for a while after our conversation. Her question still ringing in my ear.  _So would you do him?_  There's only one answer.  _Hell yeah!_ I think about my girlfriend for a second, talking to her didn't make me want to bang her brains out. No, getting laid wouldn't help me - not unless I was doing Adam. The little devil on my shoulder is laughing at that. Okay! I'll admit it. Doing Adam wouldn't help either. I need to be done. By Adam. My face is bright red, and not from the California sunshine.  
**The next day is Friday and Dave's out. So, I sit myself down at Dave's computer; mine's all busted up. He has the homepage set to Yahoo. Who still uses that? I roll my eyes. As it always happens with these things, some headline caught me eye and I went from one story to another until I ended up at a gossip website talking about Adam Lambert, and his 'date' with Ferras from the night before. It was torture reading it, but I read every word. I wondered who the friend was that talked to the tabloids. I suppose Adam and Ferras did have a lot in common. The tight vice that had my insides in its grip was not letting up one bit. 

 _Fuck!_  It was real now, in a way it had not been yesterday. It was black on white - on screen for everyone to read. I could only pray that the sense of loss I felt would diminish in time. It's not like I ever had anything, so I didn't really lose anything. It just felt that way for some reason, and I was not yet ready to contemplate why.   
Sleep didn't find me that night, despite the fact that I was soaked in Jack Daniels.   
**  
The next morning, my head is pounding but I hurl myself out of bed head for rehearsals. There is a law against musicians being awake before noon, especially when they've been friendly with the bottle, but I'd signed a contract and was under the rule of deadlines not rock-n-roll. Everyone was already there.  _Shit!_  I glance at the clock. It was barely a fifteen minutes past eight, in the morning. I am not too late; they're early, or on time - semantics...  
"Whaaat?" Adam asks out loud in disbelief. I try to make for the other side of the room, but Lisa calls out for me. "Hi Tommy, get over here. Please tell Adam the tabloids are all over his Ferras affair."   
I swallow hard, even though Adam is looking at me like he wishes the earth would open up and swallow him. "Yeah, word got out of your  _date_  last night." I sign quotation marks in the air at the word  _date_. "And working together on the album made you fall for him." I tease Adam some more.   
"Do you two sit around and read the tabloids all day?" Monte strums a note on his guitar; it's a call to focus on the music. He continues, "Ignore tabloids; make it big enough in this town and it's your face you'll be staring at in them."   
"Yada. Yada. Yada." Lisa sticks her fingers into her ears and walks to the keyboards. We are all laughing now, including Monte. It's fun to make jest of his hate for the tabloids. I suppose being in Madonna's band has to make you hate tabloids and paps with a passion.   
I see Adam fiddling with his phone; I too, grab mine to check my messages before we start rehearsal. I see the tweet from Adam.   
@ohferras. The tabloids think we're dating. Haha! where do they get this sh**t?!  
I look up at Adam and his eyes are starring right at me, like he knows I'd just read his tweet.  _Fuck!_  I am blushing. That's because Adam's eyes were saying: @TommyJoeRatliff.  The tabloids think I'm dating Ferras. I am NOT!!! 

   
 _You confused? The little devil on my shoulder asks the angel, who nods in response. Yeah, me too._  
 _  
_  
Practice goes great. And if it didn't, I was too happy about Adam's tweet to notice.

   
Adam walks up behind me, in that cat crawl he does that I can't feel him until he is right against me. "Any plans tonight?" He asks.

   
"Yeah, the girlfriend has been on may case to see this band playing in Pasadena."

   
"Your girlfriend?" Adam asks stunned. 

   
"Yeah." I sigh.

   
"You're really are straight, aren't you?"

   
I don't know what to say to that, how to answer to that.  _I'm mostly straight but I want you to fuck me against the wall NOW. I'm gay but I date women and get sucked off a guy every once in a while._ None of those seemed appropriate, so I simply smile. "See you Monday."

   
I can feels his eyes on me as I walk away. Maybe I should have come right out with it, owned up to my fence hopping, but I just couldn't; not without admitting that I wanted to jump his bones too, and I wasn't ready for that yet. I wasn't ready for the sting of the rejection I feared; I'd rather make-belief that he's lusting for a straight me, when he reverts to teasing me on stage, than endure his ignoring an available me off stage. 

   
**

   
I meet up with my girl at a her place. There are clothes all over the floor, dishes piled high in the sink and two sets of ketchup smudged subway wrappings on the table by the laptop. Seeing her again stirs no passions in me, but the state of her abode leads me to think getting some was not her plan.  I suppose my place would get like this too if I stayed around long enough, or had that many clothes and shoes. 

   
"A friend is joining us. Hope you don't mind?" 

   
"Who?" I was not up for dealing with any Adam fans right now.

   
"Hliton Hater."

   
"What kind of name is that?"  _And why did it sound so very familiar._

 _  
_  
"It's a pen name..."

   
The way she that was the giveaway. "How much money are you making off this?" I seethe.

   
"Just a couple of hundred. What's the point of being in his band if you can't cash in. I was going to share, really." She makes a pleading face. Some ago it would have worked too; she'd get me to relent arguing: that all publicity was good publicity, that Hollywood was a cutthroat place, that if we didn't cashing in someone else would. That was then, this was now. I couldn't, not to Adam. 

   
Looking at her, I was overcome by revulsion. "So that article yesterday, you were the  _friend?"_ I ask,knowing the answer before she admits. She could have lied, I suppose. Not that I would have believed her. Adam didn't have the kind of friends who'd tell the tabloids he was dating Ferras. Thinking about it now, my jealousy had been ridiculous too ---  _Of all people, Ferras?!?!?_

 _  
_

 _"_ I did mention that he was on a date with Ferras, yes." She admits, defiant. "You told me that."

   
"So now it's my fault that I have a girlfriend who can't keep her trap shut about my boss." I am mad as hell. 

   
"No...Baby..." She reaches for my arm, running her fingers along the outline of my tattoo. 

   
"Don't fucking touch me!" I say, harsh enough that she is talking aback. "You know what? You're right it's my fault and I can fix it." I grab both her wrists in hand, and I am not too gentle about it. "Don't ever call me again; don't tweet me; don't come by the house to see Dave either. It's over."

   
"Tommy, please. I'll never do it again..."

   
"You know what? It's not just about this." I release her hands, try to calm myself. I know she doesn't deserve this kind of manhandling from me over this; it really is the way most people in Hollywood roll. I just didn't want to be like those people, like her. I want to be kind of person that Adam would actually call his friend. People like Monte and Brad who mingle with stars and still live ordinary lives, away from the sludge of Hollywood's gutter. "I don't want to be tied down," I admit.

   
"You want to be free to travel the world with Adam, and sample the groupies?" She asks, bitter but not surprised. Hollywood makes us all cynical like that. 

   
"Something like that, yeah." I nod. I am not about to correct her on who I'd like to be sampling. 

   
"I love you." She declares. 

   
I see through that one immediately. "Come on. We were on hiatus, requested by you I should mention, before I got this gig."

   
"That was only because I wanted you to get a stable job that could support a family." She pleads.

   
"And I am sure that makes sense to the writers at cosmo. You were willing to walk away before, you can do it again."

   
"Do I have a choice?" She asks. 

   
I am resolute. "No."

   
**

   
It's the first day of rehearsals for the American Music Awards. I walk up to Adam. "You can like, you know, grab me and shit." Adam looks stunned. I rub my sweaty palms together. "On stage, you know; if it goes with the song and all that; if you want to. I don't mind. Only if you feel like it"   _I am rambling like an idiot._

 _  
_  
"Isn't that crossing the line."

   
"There are no lines in rock-n-roll." If I sound like I believe that, it's because I do.

   
"No boundaries?" Adam asks, that teasing sexy drawl dripping from his words. 

   
I bite my lip as a shiver runs down my spine. "No boundaries," I concur; offering whatever he wanted enough to take. Judging by the hunger his eyes can't hide, the offer's not lost on Adam either.  



	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta by [](http://nobodybetterer.livejournal.com/profile)[ **nobodybetterer**](http://nobodybetterer.livejournal.com/) 

We are at the Alexandria Hotel in downtown Los Angeles with only one day to shoot enough raw footage for the FYE music video. That means, although it's barely eight in the morning, I've been in costume for three hours. Mr Ray K is ordering everyone around for the dance sequence in the hall. I'm sitting this scene out, not playing or anything, but it isn't like I can actually catch a break. It's all so exciting, I don't want to miss a single second.

This place has a creepy feel to it too. Rumored to be haunted by ghosts, it's the perfect location for the shoot. Maybe there weren't ghosts at the hotel-turned-nightclub and micro-loft, but, as an avid horror movie buff, I like this kinda stuff. I do find it kind of sad; a landmark with such rich history, that once catered to the elite of Hollywood and political power-brokers now stands eclipsed by the bright lights of the city, forgotten by all but a handful. Yuppie/hipster residents pass it by without note or mention.

"I hear the micro-lofts are leasing for $650, if your income qualifies." It was Monte, with a cup of coffee in hand for me, seeming to sense my train of thought.

I grab the coffee from him. "Thanks"

He continues, "And in Los Angeles that means every wannabe actor and musician can get in line for a spot at that price."

"A few weeks ago that would have included me, so don't hate on us wannabees," I say teasingly.

"And a few years ago that would have been me, too," he toasts with his styrofoam coffee cup.

"I need a Jack on the rocks, not a coffee right now," I moan.

"Give it a couple of hours. We have to at least look like we are trying," Monte says with a laugh.

"I don't know how actors and dancers do this early morning thing everyday," I complain, knowing my misery was shared.

"God, he's good," Monte says and I follow his gaze to Adam. Adam has a faux whip in hand, whipping out the dance moves. It's choreographed to perfection and Adam is both feeding and feeding off the sexual energy in the room. I imagine the whip slicing through the air, and I sense myself stirring. "I'll be outside," I inform Monte. I need a whiff of air not tainted with Adam's allure.

Not sure how long I was outside. It couldn't have been long, my coffee cup was still half full.

"You missed my walk through the jungle." Adam's voice comes up behind me. "I'm sorry," he says, "didn't mean to startle you." Adam wraps an arm around me, in that nonchalant manner of his, almost certainly not meaning anything by it. "You okay?" he asks. It really is not his fault that he stirs me so. "I'm fine," I say taking a sip of my coffee. It's cold - must have been out here longer than I thought. I tell myself that shiver running down my back is not because Adam's fingers are tapping out a sensual rhythm on my shoulder. It isn't because the metal on my top feels cold where it touches my skin, has me hard: thinking of metal chains, thinking of being tied up, thinking of Adam over me, thinking of Adam deep inside me. It isn't because for the first time in my life I am thinking of a man, thinking of a man taking me, making me his. And I believe these lies I tell myself; almost.

"You're shivering. Let's get inside out of the cold." Adam pulls me close. I feel angry that he can feel me trembling at his touch, relieved that he doesn't realize why, and hard - hard because he's touching me, holding me close, his heat burning into me. Despite his prompt, he doesn't seem in much of a hurry to head inside. I don't complain, content to stand there, in his arms.

"Hey, baby?" Adam nudges me again.

"Hmmm..." I murmur, burrowing into his embrace.

"Warm?"

"Hot," I instantly reply, too honestly. I look up at Adam. He's smiling, but without a trace of smugness. His eyes sparkle with a blue-green, glittery, happy hue and I relax into his arms, wanting, more than anything I have ever wanted, to see Adam this happy as often as possible.

Our moment doesn't last too long. "Adam!" It's Monte, calling out for him. We move apart, but not quickly enough to escape Monte's notice, worse yet, we look guilty as hell, although I am not sure of what exactly. "They want to get started with the performance scene," Monte says, a strange knowing look passes between him and Adam. "Whiskey's on me as soon as we're done with this," Adam winks. At me? At Monte? I can't tell, but I still smile. "Hell yeah!"

"You do know how to push those buttons, don't you?" Monte punches Adam in the shoulder as he walks by, huge grin on his face. I can tell from Adam's chuckle that it was some kind of joke, but I don't always get Monte, so who knows what that was about. We walk through the doors and fierce Adam is back, gone is the sweet tenderness with which he'd regarded me earlier. The enigma of course is that it wasn't simply a facade, it was authentic Adam, too, just a different side. All versions of his glam fascinated me in a way I had no business being fascinated by a man, certainly not one who also happened to be my boss.

So the performance scene is basically the band up on a stage, playing for an audience. The bass parts in the song are nice. Just enough to keep me occupied and not so complicated that it required my complete attention. I prance around a lot, like I usually do, but also because I fear Adam's voice and it's ability to put me into a trance. It's as if, when I am jumping about, he can't pin me down - or so I tell myself.

"That was good," the director calls out, "let's have another take just to make sure." Adam nods in agreement and we start a re-take.

I'll blame it on the music, claim I'd always been a guy to do a lean while strumming out notes, and it'd be true, but not the whole truth. I didn't even actually go in for a back lean. I am not that brave, not since I'd realized that being in Adam's vicinity messed with my brain waves. Anyway, I take the step or two towards Adam, hitting the right notes as I do, and stand next to Adam for a crescendo. I must have been close enough that Adam felt me, because next thing I know his hands are on me. On my ass. I gulp. And he is nudging me around so we can lean against each other. It's all very rock and roll, but my nerve endings are stuck on his hands. Strong, large palms cupping my ass. I can either play the bass or breathe, but no way I can do both with Adam touching me like that, with his warmth radiating through the lace and between the straps of leather of my outfit. I decide I can live without breathing for a while, and concentrate instead on not missing a note - Monte would never forgive me otherwise. A few seconds morph into an eternity until suddenly I am no longer plastered against Adam's back. Miraculously, I don't miss a single note. Finally back in my safe zone, a few feet away from Adam, I breathe again.

I'm certain there's no requirement that we spend the entire day the video shoot. Adam and the dancers are the only ones who are really needed for the last of the dance sequences. I hang around anyway, and, not that I'll admit it to anyone, for more than just the whiskey Adam promised.

"This vid is gonna be rad," I chug Coronas with Monte.

"Adam has a vision for it, that's for sure," he replies.

"Did you see Brooke's outfit? Almost didn't recognize her," I chuckle.

"It's cool how he brought much of his old crew to do this," Monte comments.

"Easier than trying to get a bunch of strangers to gel with Adam enough to pull his off!" I remark.

"So you seeing anyone?" Monte asks very out of left field. "Nope," I answer simply. I want to know the reason for his inquiry, but asking seems rude, albeit no more rude than his question. An awkward silence passes between us, like Monte is waiting for more details or something. I oblige. "I broke up with the girl I was seeing recently actually."

"So you're straight then?" Monte asks, and it dawns on me that he isn't asking because he is personally curious, but as Adam's long time friend. I smile and reply, "Depends on who you ask." Not wanting to stand around and continue the conversation I take my leave. "Gonna grab another beer. You want one?" I ask Monte. He shakes his head and holds up his half full bottle at me. I walk away without another word, playing our exchange in my head, wondering why I didn't just tell Monte I am straight - I am. Sure, I'd fooled with Sean and Christian a bit, but that was none of his business. It was none of Adam's business either. I'm straight, not bi, definitively not gay. So why does my breath catch in my throat as a sweaty Adam walks towards me?

"Picture time!" Adam says. I hold up my empty bottle, "I was going to grab a beer."

"Well, that can wait," Adam says, "I need promotional material with the band."

"Lemme get Monte," I suggest pointing back to the terrace door. Adam wipes beads of perspiration off his forehead, "Sure, I need a little freshening up too." I point out that sweaty is very Rock-n-Roll. Adam steps right up to me and leaning close says with a smile, "If I am going to hold my own in a photo shoot with you, sweaty won't cut it." I blush, I can't help it, but I also fire back, "I suppose it's a good thing I'm not all glittered up then." Against my neckline, so his breath caresses my left ear, Adam murmurs, "You sparkle without glitter too, glitterbaby!"

I can't respond to that, and I can't process my reaction to his comment, so I run. "Monte," serves as my one word explanation.

Monte's still standing outside where I left him, gulping down his last mouthful of beer. "Adam wants us to do promo shots," I inform him. Five minutes later, the band is lined in front of the camera. I stand on the far side, far from Adam, delighting in my escape from Adam's proximity. I set my face into my bad-ass scowl. I feel bad-ass. Two months ago I was stuck at a dead-end job to pay the bills and played gigs at night. _Look at me now! Take note LA, Tommy Joe Ratliff is in the house!  
_  
Apparently our pose is captured, and almost pointless, because the official photographer is not quite ready yet. What do I know? All guys with cameras look the same to me. The producers and some folks from RCA file in accompanied by another photographer. The camera around his neck has an even longer, bigger lens, which is a proxy for hierarchy in the photography business I suppose. This all means there are still more pictures to be taken.

"Tommy!" Adam calls out. I acknowledge him. He beckons me over. Noticing my hesitation he asks, "Are you scared?" I shake my head, but my eyes scream YES. I walk over to his side. We pose for the picture and I feel Adam's hands around my waist and slipping lower until they rest on my butt cheek again. So much for my bad-ass pose this time. I have to concentrate on breathing. Somehow courage blooms within me and I let my hand fall to Adam's side, moving lower until I'm nestling his round behind. I can't quite cup my hands around him very effectively, so I grab at him instead. Just to make sure he's certain it's no accident I squeeze. I think I hear his breath hitch, but I can't be sure. Yet I feel his hands release my back-side as he tries to adopt a more neutral stance. I smile. _Two can play this game, Adam Baby-boy_. I keep my hand on his derrière for the duration of the photo shoot. 

After about a hundred clicks of the camera, the photographer's satisfied and it's a wrap. We head out for drinks on Adam's tab.


End file.
